


Two String Instrument

by Cannabis



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Choking, Fetish, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Sexual Roleplay, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28789305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cannabis/pseuds/Cannabis
Summary: Hannibal Lecter is a professional 'sex therapist.' Will Graham is in dire need of his assistance.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 26





	Two String Instrument

A distraction, a distraction. It wasn’t something that Hannibal Lecter would allow. Not today. Never for a prize patient.

It had been some time since a new potential patient had risen from the pool of sources that arose from the ocean of information. This man, one Will Graham, had been referred to him by a colleague in a similar professional stance. Regrettably, they had found they were unable to withstand the tremendous amount of care this patient had required. Thus, had this man appeared to, as Hannibal held the tablet against his knee, literally fallen into his lap. He was resting comfortably at his desk, much like he was doing now, when an email had pinged at him between sessions. A peculiar man, this Will Graham, and all his proclivities. He spent careful time going over the details, then sent a formal email to the man, waiting until his next working day to review the replies. He was never one to take work home after all. The reply had been prompt. Not even fifteen minutes had passed between his initial sending and the formal reply that he returned to his email. This would usually send an alarm off in his mind, but Hannibal was patience incarnate this time. There was something about it that he felt he would gain by needling through.

They had talked for almost two months before any mention of his address had come into play. He had learned that Will worked in police work of a sort and enjoyed fly-fishing and fixing boat motors as a hobby. He was also very keen to speak often of his dogs. As Hannibal studied the walls of text his predecessors sent to him, the longest string of letters that had truly brought Will to his attention was his previous therapists. None were underperformers or afraid of enacting new ideas or altering previous engagements. Both male and female therapists had raised their hands in surrender, desperate to find another professional that could take the reins from their qualified, but struck down to smaller size egos. The underlying problems, as he was told, were ’The stressors of his job, traumas of childhood, and present day violence in his life’ had led him to contact their professional services, but each one had failed to keep up with his hopes. The true professionals could feel the tap turn of instantly for the patient once the trust had disappeared. Such was the cruel and fickle garnishment upon the plate of life. This list of quirks and letters from previous therapists were substantial and far from substandard. They had been intrigued by Will greatly. Thus, with so many of his esteemed colleagues surrendering to defeat, _this_ had intrigued him greatly.

He had agreed to meet Will but with certain conditions in mind before they were even to meet in person. While much pricier then his compatriots, he had offered to see Will on the pretense of one session a week, if he was truly so much of an issue to be non-retainable by so many other learned professionals. Of course, he was not so careless in writing it in this fashion, his only inadequacy in the moment, had been his intense whimsy. It was certainly worth his time to assist in such a potentially scandalous case after all.

The therapy began as any other, with Will accepting that the only way the door would open to him is if he arrived on time. The second acceptance was Will should be on his knees when the door opened. A task he had been most eager to commit to. The third? Yes, always a third. Will would wear a device of Hannibal’s choosing as he fucked him. If it ever went that far. He was, after all, a specialized and proficient expert. Not a whore. It wouldn’t always have to be sexual, Hannibal had assured him, and nothing would be used against his taste. All of it would be agreed to, but which item was brought in and on what day or time they would be introduced? A dash more secretive.

It had taken only a fraction of a heartbeat for Will to make his decision. Here was their first meeting, and at a soft stroke of his tongue over his bottom lip, he then nodded. Now they sat only a few feet apart, traversing the delicate deliverances of Will’s desires for the evening. For Hannibal had already embellished his own ideas in their frequent correspondence before they had met. It was, after all, his way of assuring his patients that his utmost confidences were written as directed. Nothing more or less. It was his signature, never left without a flourish.

“Yes, I like that idea.” Will folded his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees. “Let me know what you have in mind.” Hannibal let out a dry chuckle. Just one tut. Will perked immediately.

“No, Will, it is you who will be spilling the secrets today, in person. Many words go unwritten as we email one another, this is your time to vocalize it. This is your therapy after all.” Hannibal knew a chide could go either way in the start of such an affair, it was his professional line of business after all; but it was how he learned if they, his patients, could weather a calm before a storm. That rush of endorphin and dopamine were often gifted to those who ended up lesser for it. He would always test if they were here just to play games and get off. He was not in the business of prostituting himself. Each one had to be vetted accordingly before they even set foot into his office.

“Oh, um. Okay,” Will cleared his throat and tapped his pointers fingers together, then pressed them to his lips. Holding back the words he wanted to say for only a few seconds more.

3…

2…

1…

“I like the idea of being held down. Maybe being bound, but not to helplessness.”

“ _Maybe_ being bound?” Hannibal perked a brow. “Do embellish this, please.” This was written in previous correspondence, but between his colleagues letterings and Will’s here and now, a difference must be struck. Or, in Will’s favor, and perhaps Hannibal’s as well, no differences would be found.

“Right. I don’t want to try hard leather with someone new or anything. Maybe something gentler to start exploring with but enough that I can’t resist but I know it’s there.”

“If it is fuzzy handcuffs you seek, I know a corner store that can abide that whim.” Hannibal played a bit and Will laughed, the blush returning. “You are in the right line of business, you know.”

“Yeah, well, not to some.” Will dropped his eyes to his fingers again then Hannibal watched as his eyes traveled up his body until they rested on his face once more. He let a smile reach his gaze and Will mimicked the expression, slightly.

“You have an item on right now that I am referring too.” Will made a motion at his neck, referring to the tie that Hannibal wore, or course. Hannibal nodded, amused. This playful nature gave him a start in giddy delight.

“Will, being in our first session what matters most in a bond such as this, is mutual trust. This time it will be something simple and delicate that can be removed at any time. Do you agree with this deduction?” They had been sitting across from one another since the beginning of the session and only at the beginning did Will avoid his gaze, taking in the surroundings with utmost curiosity. Everything seemed credible in his eyes, and he was very keen to begin.

“I do. I’m ready.” Will had spoken with a calm eagerness as he wiped sweaty palms against his upper thighs, a mark of nervous anticipation. Hannibal could already see the blush creeping up Will’s neck and ears, it was remarkably adorable and tugged a smile at the corner of his lips.

“Good. Then here it is,” Hannibal reached down and deftly untied his left shoe. Then he moved gracefully to the right one. Will watched in anticipation as the fingers moved, skillfully, and purposefully unknotting the bow, twirling the string like a lead on a horse as he drifted the choice from its leather bonds.

“Your---shoelace?” Will asked softly, almost inaudible. “I don’t want to break that. I’ve been told I am very sturdy when it comes to this type of thing.”

“Yes, my shoelace.” Hannibal cooed as he stood slowly, holding the thin tool of choice. As he toed off his lace-less dress attire, he added without a hint of sympathy, “No, these will not be twined around your wrists.” Will’s mouth shaped into a small inaudible ‘oh’ his chin tilting upward as he watched Hannibal come closer. Hannibal’s free hand came to rest beside Will’s arm and as he leaned in, he heard Will draw in a breath.

“Have we started already?” Will whispered. The closeness of Hannibal bearing down on him.

“The following sessions we will start outside the door. So in the essence of consistency we will begin the same. Please exit the office and return to the entrance. Now.” Hannibal stood straight up again and allowed Will to stand. He remained within a breadth of Will, forcing him to press close, but not touch, in order to step from in front of his chair. As he treaded toward the exit, Hannibal counted his pace. He did not move from his position until Will had closed the exit door gently and begun padding down the hall to circle back to the entrance. At his general pace, it would take him 30 seconds to return to the entrance. Hannibal moved purposely to his desk and removed a small bottle of lubricant, gently buffing the edge of the shoelaces so as not to utterly over-chaff his soon-to-be-partner in sexual adornment. He didn’t overly soak them, he wanted Will to feel the bite as its drive began to serve them both.

A keen and careful knock came from the entry door. Hannibal moved over, careful to not allow his shadow to pass beneath the door slat, to tease the eager soul and his potential on the other side of the ingress. Then and only then, did he open it with purpose.

Will was on his knees.

“Do come in, Will,” He started as he stepped aside. By his own volition, Will palmed the carpet and crawled in without a sound. Hannibal shut the door gently behind him, and as Will reset himself on his knees a few paces from the door, he knew it had started perfectly between them. So far. Will sensed it too and gasped softly, as Hannibal blessed him with a stroke through his bouncing curls from behind, starting near the base of his neck, then up to the curve of his ear as he walked around him; taking in the view on all sides. The hand did not leave him yet, tracing gently to the crevice beneath his jaw, then up again to trace a thumb at his lips; his pointer finger still rested gently at the cuff of Will’s ear. Shuddering breaths pattered against his thumb as Will swallowed dryly. His pulse was quickening.

Hannibal lifted his foot to knead Will’s knees apart, compliance came quickly and he stepped into the gap with one leg and drifted his palm to the back of Will’s neck, coaxing him to lean against his thigh. Will moved forward, he was eager but not overtly so. Not vulgar, as he caressed his head against Hannibal’s thigh, gazing up at him, daring himself to touch before he had been requested to. But not yet. He wasn’t ready for punishment. Hannibal stroked a hand through Will’s hair once more, tender and gentle as he kneaded him closer to his own arousal. Will’s breath was titillating amply so through the fabric already.

Will hummed and squirmed slightly, his hands eager to touch himself or Hannibal. Either one would do. His pants were feeling far too compromising already, gripping his hard on with aplomb. If he moved just right he might be able to—

“No.” Hannibal spoke for this first time in what felt like hours, but Will knew it had been only a moment. The heat was stifling him, his desires were beating against his zipper like a boxer tied to a corner in the ring when all he wanted was to fight. To give in. With one word he was able to hold back his urge to burst at the seams, but he could feel a warmth creeping loose, that was signaling his closeness already. Hannibal chuckled. “You are such charming boy.”

Then Hannibal stepped back, leaving Will to gasp in surprise, lost in his heat. He fell back onto his hands in surprise at the sudden loss of balance. His gaze now back on the familiar floorboards instead of the warmth of Hannibal’s trousers.

“Get up. Go to my desk and stand in front of it,” Hannibal commanded. Will knew he could do it, take his time, perhaps, and crawl there instead of standing, as he pressed one palm forward the reaction was instant. “No. Stand and walk.”

“Yes, sir,” Will replied softly, wobbling to his feet. He could feel the tension in his cock prancing against his zipper as he managed to gain his footing, but as he took his first couple steps, he could feel the blood flow moving away ever so slightly. He made it to the desk, panting, and faced Hannibal who had padded after him in stocking feet, quite literally stalking him. The closeness almost stifled him again.

“Good boy,” Hannibal ran his fingers along Will’s belt line, then passed the restraint and drove the zipper low, easing some of the tension of Will’s pleasure-intoxicated heat. He moved slowly and deliberately, tugging Will free with one hand and twirling the string around the fingers of the other hand almost out of sight. When Will turned his eyes to look, Hannibal tutted at him and he moved his gaze back up, toward the dark eyes that watched his every move, now from a few centimeters away. Will could feel the string the instant it coiled around the first time. It started at the base of his cock, two slick winds that were just tight enough to tug at the flesh when Hannibal freed his balls from the prison of his zipper as well. Then, it was wound once to the left, then once to the right, and coiled once more at the head. It clutched at his hole, each time his cock twitched.

“Oh god,” Will let out in a soft whimper and Hannibal paused only a second to take in the bearing of his partner. He was quite encapsulated in his lust but not lost in it. Not like when he was on his knees by the door a few moments ago. Here he was more balanced, here he was even perfect. Hannibal gave one stroke to Will’s cock, slow and steady from base to tip, just with his thumb and central fingers. The shudder that drew Will up with the motion, the desire that moved him a hair’s breadth from Hannibal’s mouth was ever so captivating. Will resisted kissing him, resisted so hard to give in to the second stroke that followed; though it was much slower and much more deliberate. He mewled over again the same words of endless depth, and Hannibal pressed him back against the desk, rocking into him, coaxing him into a rhythm of gentle waves as pleasure drew him by Hannibal’s lead. It was only then, once Will had been drawn into his tempo, did Hannibal move his hand more quickly, closing in on Will’s compression.

It was with hardly a word spoken, that Will found himself being coaxed to oblivion. All he was seeing was red, and when he looked into Hannibal’s eyes, he knew that _he_ knew. Then the motion ended, right before the turning point. Will gasped as the hand left his erection but no change came over Hannibal’s expression. Then the hand had moved, and a swift motion had coiled the second shoelace around his neck. Hannibal pressed his back against the desk, pushed a knee between Will’s thighs and tugged him by the string at his jaw to lean flat. The string held taut against his jawline, tempting the pulse against him. Hannibal was over Will in just a moment, his free hand had palmed Will’s cock again and Will heard the words he was desperately waiting for.

“Come for me.” Hannibal commanded as his motion set its course. His left hand tightened the string around his throat ever so slightly as Will writhed beneath him. The jarring edge split Will’s voice into smaller gasps as he fell back into the rhythm, he felt the knee pressed hard against his perineum as his cock was jerked to its release. Everywhere he twitched and jerked, he could feel a piece of Hannibal controlling him. With each tug, the knee met beneath his balls to press him further into the pleasure spiral. When he grabbed at the desk nearing his release, he could feel Hannibal’s coat drag against his arm, following the rhythm. When he arched his back, bucked his hip, that knee, those eyes, chased his motions and captured him in a net of his inescapable release. He came with a gutted gasp, the burst shaking against the string, and agitating the thirst for more to escape his flow. Even after the initial spurt ended, his cock still trembled with pleasure, seeking to leak more against the spattered mess up his trousers and shirt. He blinked at the heat, still tracing the red spots scattered in his vision, still enjoying the friction of the string tight against his throat. The hand didn’t move from his cock until it lost its rise, gently soaking into the palm of the one who coaxed it to freedom. “You may speak now, Will.” Hannibal had a smile in his tone.

Will wished to speak, but all he was able to free was a soft groan. Hannibal released his cock, and eased the string from the Will’s lax form. It was still partially firm, but that was expected. The lace at his throat came off next. Then, a soft palm stroked at his cheek, brushing his wet hair from his forehead.

“You did well, Will.” Hannibal purred. There were moments when he thought Will would give in, perhaps as a way to chase him away, but Will was open this time, much more than had been expected. He had let Hannibal chase him to the end without recourse. Even now he let Hannibal ease him into an upright position and continue to pet through his hair, easing him back to the present. Then what had the others missed? Perhaps it had occurred during following sessions too—

“Hannibal,” Will was looking at him now. It had been about five minutes of cool down to draw a word from him. Hannibal slipped a hand through his hair once more, letting Will rest into the open palm as he answered.

“Yes, Will? I am here,” He had a jovial undertone.

“Are you certain we can only meet once a week?” Will purred against Hannibal’s open palm. As Will’s cheek scuffed against his skin, coaxing for more, the eager eyes met his with a hauntingly beautiful afterglow; that was the first tick that Hannibal began to understand the error of his colleagues. Just as he had been born with the keenest insight to create sensation, sights, and scents to instigate from the smallest of clues, Will Graham had been born to chase them.

Hannibal did not move his hand, he was interested in the reaction that his man was giving in return. A shiver up his spine as Hannibal eyed him, until the hand was finally removed without abruptness, off to task rolling both of the shoelaces around the other hand like floss to a finger.

“There is little doubt in my mind that you will be required to return here for further therapy, Will,” Hannibal stepped back, but not in retreat, to eye the mess that he had created of the other man. The minor trouser stain may be able to escape with an excuse, but the spatter that traveled up the shirt buttons were another matter altogether. His eyes lingered on Will’s cock a few seconds more, just long enough to let Will know what he was staring at, then he smirked. “You may cover up now.” Hannibal glanced at himself, and noticed that he too had need for a change of attire before the next session would take place. There was a reminder lain partially across his vest as he brought his gaze back up. Will was moving gingerly now, taking in the view himself as he gave himself a once over. Then he spoke.

“Don’t revel too much, Doctor,” He spoke with an amusing conviction after being laid out on a desk, cock bare and moaned. “This is only the first session after all.” Before he allowed himself to stop it, Hannibal had honed in to that smile. Will was offering his own voice in return, and in that mindset, he may indeed be posturing for a different version of treatment altogether. Then, just as it was acknowledged, it disappeared, and a shyness came over the movement as he tucked away his cock.

“Will.” Hannibal kept his tone even.

“Hm?” Will met his gaze through sweaty locks as he tucked his shirt back in.

“How often do you crawl back inside post-coitus?” Hannibal coaxed a stammer from him immediately.

“I, I don’t know what you mean. I am aware of myself during the entire process.” He chuckled as he stood up straight.

“That is true.” Hannibal stepped toward the exit as Will trudged after in excellent spirits. “I will see you again next week,” He moved with purpose and he could sense Will chasing his state of mind.

“On the dot?” Will played back. As Hannibal watched him pass by, he took in the smell and sight once more of the

“On the dot. Yes.” Hannibal returned the tone as he opened the door for Will. “Until then, mind your manners at work.” Will’s laugh was light, but even as he exited, the door closed pleasantly behind him. Then Hannibal returned to his stoic expression, drifting soundlessly over to his desk.

He noticed a small scuff mark on his desk from Will’s watch. As he thumbed it away, he added it to his checklist of what he would have Will remove next time. He could still feel the heat of him there on the wood, the shape of him sprawled and kneading against his body in this space in time. He could follow the micro-expressions, and the emotive pitch in his mind like a melody and he closed his eyes to tease himself for mistakes. There were several in Will’s approach that could be minded, but nothing he saw yet in his own encounter. Besides the scuff mark but that was immaterial akin to accidental. Then he followed the turn of the hour, the moment that had passed at the end. The chasing ping at the back of his mind of what Will had offered, to deny a minor offense on his own part.

_“Don’t revel, Doctor.”_ The voice played on repeat, like a clip in time for just a few more minutes and Hannibal knew why his concentration had been pursuing this idea. This was what he desired and that’s what made Will dangerous.

He had met a devil, all his own.


End file.
